


Untitled

by Savannah_Vee



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 1d, Friendship/Love, M/M, Male Slash, Slash, larry - Freeform, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-03
Updated: 2012-06-03
Packaged: 2017-11-06 17:58:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/421691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savannah_Vee/pseuds/Savannah_Vee





	Untitled

“…a couple of years ago,” the interviewer’s saying, when Louis’ lips… start… curving… into… a…. grin. “You know, you guys were going about your everyday –”

“Sorry,” he interrupts, unable to hold in his laugh any longer. He shakes his head, eyes still on his best friend, who’s sitting somewhere behind the interviewer.  “Harry’s pulling a funny face.”

Harry pulls another one at him, crossing his eyes and sticking out his tongue.

The interviewer continues the interview and Louis tries his best to ignore Harry, who’s now making wanking motions with his hand and rolling back his eyes, as if in pleasure.

When the interview’s finally over and Louis can get away from the cameras, he makes a beeline for Harry, who spots him coming and leaps over the back of the sofa, trying to get away.

He doesn’t get far before Louis catches him, his arms tight around his waist from behind, and they both lose balance and topple forwards.

Harry’s face is planted in the carpet as he groans, “Arghhhh fuck, my ribs.”

Louis’ face is planted in the small of Harry’s back as he groans, “Fuck, my fingers.”

Their band mates laugh at them from the sofa.

They start getting up, Louis pulling his aching fingers out from under Harry and massaging them, Harry sitting on his arse and rubbing his aching ribs.

Louis catches Harry’s eye. It’s just for a split second, and if it had been anyone else they would have missed it.

But it’s Harry. So he doesn’t.

Louis’ smirk starts off small, but when he catches a glimpse of Harry’s dimples – those deep dimples that appear when he’s trying _really_ hard to hold back a laugh, it widens.

He snorts.

Harry snorts.

And then they’re both giggling, Harry holding on to his ribs and half groaning at the same time. He lies on his back on the carpet and continues laughing, eyes squeezing shut.

Louis stays sitting up, looking down at him as he laughs.

And eventually their giggles die down.

Louis stands up and holds out his hand to his friend. Harry grips it tightly and half hauls himself up.

They exchange one brief, smirky look and return to the sofa.

Harry is still smirking as they sit down. “Oh my God, you should have seen your face during the interview. Looked like you were constipated, or something.”

Louis grudgingly smirks back. He can’t help it. “I musta looked a right twat. Watch, I’m gonna get you back for that.”

Harry throws an arm over Louis’ shoulder. Kisses him on the cheek. Stage whispers in his ear, “But I was doing it for you, Sweetcheeks.” His lovely red lips push out in a pout. “That interview was taking forever. I missed you.”

Louis pushes him off, smiling, blushing. “Get off.”

Harry musses his hair and kisses his cheek again.

—-

They’re back in their flat in London two days later, having a couple of days off before they have to be back in the studio.

Harry is still fast asleep when Louis gets out of bed, around eleven. He showers and is in the kitchen, about to make something to eat, when he receives a text from Eleanor:

_Hey! Are you awake yet? Can’t wait to see you. Miss you. xxx_

He leans against the counter and sighs, staring blankly at the text but not really seeing it.

Harry’s yawn snaps him out of his stupor and he glances up to find him coming into the kitchen – topless, his abs and v cut getting more and more pronounced due to his gym sessions – and only in his boxers. His curls stick up all over his head and his eyes are still heavy lidded.

He looks so adorable Louis can’t help but smile at him.

“What?” he mumbles through another yawn. He’s a bit moody sometimes when he first wakes up. He goes to the fridge and gets out some juice. Drinks it straight from the carton.

“Ugh, Harry, mate, that’s rank.”

Harry continues to chug it down. When he’s done drinking – making sure Louis is watching – he deliberately flicks his tongue around the mouth of the carton. Louis can see the telltale dimples forming in his cheeks so he knows that he’s messing with him.

Harry’s openly grinning by the time he closes the carton and puts it back in the fridge.

Louis just shakes his head, goes to the fridge and grabs the carton back, then gulps down the remaining juice, his lips wrapped around the mouth of the carton Harry just licked.

Harry laughs. “You just got all my morning breath germs.”

Louis just burps in response and they both collapse into a fit of laughs.

Until Louis’ phone starts ringing.

He can’t help his slight grimace when he sees who’s calling.

Harry’s staring at him, straight faced now. He knows who it is.

When Louis answers, “Hi, babe.” Harry walks out of the kitchen.

A few minutes later Louis hears the shower running.

—-

By the time Harry gets out of the shower Louis is dressed. Eleanor wanted to meet up early. Spend the whole day together.

Harry avoids Louis’ eyes as he stalks past him, in a t shirt and a pair of shorts now, his curly hair still damp and starting to coil up around his ears.

Louis taps his iPhone in his palm, awkward. He watches him. “Got anything planned for today?”

Harry pulls a box of Coco Pops out of the cupboard and gets out the milk from the fridge. He shrugs. “I’ll see what the others are doing. Maybe do something with them.”

“Alright. I’ll try meet up with you lot later.”

Harry just pours the cereal into a bowl.

“I’m meeting Eleanor in a bit. She wants us to spend the day together.” He feels like he needs to explain himself. “Because she hasn’t seen me for ages.”

Harry just nods into his cereal. Scoops a spoonful into his mouth.

“I’m off now, anyway. I’ll see ya later.”

When he gets nothing but another nod from Harry he finally leaves.

—-

Louis doesn’t get it.

Harry always gets this way when he’s going to see Eleanor, or when Eleanor comes round to theirs, or when he gets a text or a call from Eleanor, or when he talks about Eleanor in interviews – which are the only times he talks about her, by the way.

It’s obvious Harry doesn’t like Eleanor, but Louis can’t understand why.

Zayn had just looked at him like he was stupid when he’d asked him why he thought Harry didn’t like Eleanor, and said, “He’s jealous. Duh.”

But that didn’t make sense.

What exactly is Harry jealous of?

He’s gorgeous and he’s charming – a total ladies man. If he wants a girlfriend too he could easily get one. So he can’t be jealous because Louis has a girlfriend and he doesn’t, right?

Or maybe he’s jealous of the amount of time Louis spends with Eleanor. But honestly, it’s nowhere near as much time as he and Harry spend together. He sees Eleanor, like, once every few weeks. He barely even has time to text her back sometimes.

Or maybe…

But Louis shakes his head against that one.

Harry’s as straight as an arrow. There’s no way he’s jealous because _he_ wants to be with Louis, _like that_.

Which is pretty depressing, actually.

You know, having a best friend you’re nuts over, who isn’t gay and who has no idea that you are. But it’s better this way, anyway. Louis doubts that management would be happy about two of the band members going out.

In fact, he’d even started to worry that he was becoming too obvious. Harry’s so comfortable around him that he casually touches Louis in ways that send his heart rate through the roof, oblivious to the way it affects him. So he’d decided to get with Eleanor, to throw off any gay rumours and suspicion.

So far, it seems to be working.

“I missed you,” Eleanor says, hugging him tight around the neck.

And she’s lovely, really. Sweet, and smart, and she likes him for him, not just because he happens to be in a boy band.

So he feels terrible when he lies to her: “I missed you, too.”

—-

When he gets back later that evening Harry’s not home.

And he doesn’t really want to hang with the rest of the guys tonight. He just wants Harry.

So he doesn’t call any of them asking where they are so he could meet them.

He just goes into Harry’s room and lies on Harry’s bed with his face in Harry’s pillow, inhaling Harry’s scent in the fabric.

It seems like a minute later when he feels himself being moved, and when he turns his face to the side the light blinds him and he has to squint.

He can just make out Harry’s silhouette against the light, his curls an oddly shaped halo around his head.

Both of his legs are being lifted in the air.

“What you doing?” he asks Harry.

“Taking off your trousers,” Harry answers back.

Louis can’t tell what his mood is by his answer but he can’t see his face against the backdrop of the light either.

“Why?” he asks him, confused.

Harry tugs on the ends of his chinos. “Cos you’re hardly gonna be comfortable sleeping in them, are you?”

He finally manages to get them off and throws them on the floor next to his bed. Then Louis can see him wriggling out of his own trousers.

He gets into the bed with Louis still on it. “Get off the duvet.”

Still groggy, Louis gets off the bed and hesitates at the foot of it, not knowing whether he should get back in or go to his own room.

Harry pulls back the covers and motions for him to get in. “Hurry up, it’s freezing.”

When he gets into the bed with Harry they both lie on their backs. Harry’s thigh is cold against his under the duvet.

“Did you just get in?” he asks him.

Harry nods. “Yeah. Couple minutes ago.”

“Where’d ya go?”

“I was just hanging with Niall. Liam and Zayn were out.”

They lie in silence for a while.

Then Harry says, “So. Did you have fun with Eleanor?”

“Uh, yeah, it was alright.”

“Good,” Harry says. He gets out of bed and goes to switch off the light. Then he climbs back in and turns over on his side – facing away from Louis.

After a very long silence, a silence so long that Louis is sure Harry must be asleep, he whispers into the dark, “I’d have had more fun just staying in with you, though.”

So it startles him when Harry whispers back, “Then why didn’t you?”

Harry turns over in the bed so he’s facing Louis. And Louis can see that his eyes are still wide open.

They lie facing each other, faces so close their noses are only about two inches apart.

“Well?” Harry says.

“She’s me girlfriend, Haz. I had to see her.”

Harry says nothing and they just stare at each other.

So Louis finally plucks up the courage to ask him, “Why don’t you like her?”

“I don’t not like her,” Harry answers.

“Then what’s the problem? You always get funny with me when I go to see her.”

Harry closes his eyes for a moment. “It doesn’t matter.”

Louis can’t help brushing a stray curl off Harry’s temple. “It _does_ matter, cos you’re me best mate, and I don’t like when it’s like this between us.”

Harry closes his eyes again. He takes a deep breath through his nose. “Do you really like her?” His eyes open again, staring hard at Louis.

Louis hesitates. He wants so badly to tell Harry the truth, that, no, he doesn’t like Eleanor, at least not in the way that he should. But if he tells him then he’d also have to explain why he’s with her.

So he says, “Yeah, I like her –”

And Harry starts to turn over again.

“ _But…_ ” He grasps Harry’s shoulder, stopping him.

Harry waits for a moment. “But what?”

Louis sighs. How can he possibly get the words out? “I need to tell ya something.”

Harry carries on waiting.

“I…” Another deep breath. “I’m gay.”

Harry just blinks at him.

“Say something.”

“What do you want me to say?”

Louis shrugs. “Anything.”

Harry’s telltale dimple begins to show. “Alright,” he says. “Anything.” He grins.

Louis grins back.

Harry’s hand reaches up to push Louis’ hair out of his eyes. “Mate, I don’t care if you’re gay.”

“You don’t?”

Harry shakes his head. He keeps his hand on Louis’ hair. “Is that why you’re with her, then? So people won’t find out?”

“Yeah. I know it’s a shitty thing to do but…”

Harry’s hand drifts down to Louis’ cheek. He strokes it with the back of his fingers. “Then, dump her.”

“I can’t.”

“Do you really care that much about what people think of you?”

Louis shakes his head. “It’s not that I care if people find out I’m gay it’s…”

Harry’s fingers are trailing along Louis’ jaw line. His eyes seem half closed when he gazes into Louis’ eyes. “It’s what?” he whispers.

Louis is left speechless at Harry’s look, Harry’s touch, Harry’s whisper.

“Harry,” he whispers back.

Harry’s palm cups his face. “Yeah?”

“What’re you doing?”

When Harry’s warm, soft lips meet his in a light touch, it’s like his heart has seized up in his chest and his lungs have forgotten how to work.

“I love you,” Harry whispers, his lips still so close to Louis’ that they brush when he speaks.

Louis’ voice box seems to have disappeared.

Harry pulls back so he can look him in the eye again. “Dump her.”

—-

And the very next day, he does.

He meets up with Eleanor in a quiet Starbucks and tells her that their relationship can’t work because he’s away too much.

She sobs, and tries to convince him that she doesn’t mind only being able to see him every few weeks, that they can make it work.

He feels terrible when he has to say no, when he has to walk away and leave her there, still crying.

But mostly he just feels relieved, and free, and… still confused about the night before.

Harry had kissed him. Not the playful, silly, jokey kisses that he normally gave him, but a soft, tender kind of kiss that certainly didn’t feel like a joke.

And then Harry had told him that he loved him.

But then, Harry had told him that he loved him many times before, and he’d often told Harry the same. It wasn’t those words that confused Louis.

It was the kiss.

Harry was still asleep when Louis had woken up and left to meet Eleanor, but he’d definitely be awake by now.

Louis hears the TV on when he walks into their flat.

And when he walks in the living room, Harry’s sitting on the sofa in just a vest and boxers, curly hair damp.

“I saw your note,” Harry says, holding up the note Louis left him. “So, how’d it go?”

Louis sits on the sofa next to him. “I finished with her.”

Harry nods. “How’d she take it?”

Louis grimaces. “Not too well.”

Harry’s arm goes around Louis’ shoulder. He kisses him on the forehead. And they just sit like that for a long while, not saying anything.

Then Louis clears his throat. “Last night…” he says. “That kiss…”

“What about it?”

“What did it mean?”

Harry takes his arm off Louis and turns to stare at him. “I told you what it meant last night.”

Louis feels the disappointment already starting to weigh him down. “Oh right,” he says, without feeling. “You love me.”

Harry’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Why’re you saying it like that?”

Louis shrugs. “Cos I thought that maybe… maybe you meant it in, like, a different way.”

“What are you on about?”

Louis sighs. “I thought you meant, like, you love me. Like, properly. Not just like a best mate.”

Harry’s eyebrows furrow even more.

Then suddenly, he grabs Louis’ face in both hands and presses his mouth to his, kissing him hard. He sucks on Louis’ bottom lip, pushes his tongue into his mouth. His hand travels back to Louis’ perfectly coiffed hair and he digs his fingers into it, grabbing a fistful. He stops kissing Louis intermittently, staring into his eyes for brief moments, then crushing his lips to his again, even harder.

Louis can barely move, barely breathe, barely _think_ as Harry kisses him, his heart thudding so fast in his chest it’s practically a hum.

They’re both out of breath when Harry finally pulls away.

He keeps a hand on Louis’ face, smiles, his cupid’s bow lips now a flushed, even darker pink. “I _do_ love you more than a best mate, you twat,” he says.

—-


End file.
